The Boys on the Inside: A Vandal in Our Midst
by Rocket Racer
Summary: A new case awaits for young Anthony McAllister. In this one, the young master of disguise must go undercover to find an artistic vandal that has been messing up with different works of art. Can he find the culprit before he strikes again?
1. Introduction

A Vandal in our Midst

By: Rocket Racer

11:30 a.m.  
On a wooden bench near a community park, a young boy was holding two things: a case file on his lap and a newspaper article in his left hand. He read it to know the purpose on why he's out on his own. The article is read as follows:  
"FRENCH GALLERY VANDALIZED!"  
"For many years, La Galerie Nationale d'Art had been a favorite to civilians and visitors alike in the peaceful and lively city of Paris, France. But today, it became the perfect place for crime because in the morning, it had been found that half of the works of art have been vandalized. On every marked painting, there is a signature in the middle that reads "Maestro", and the French police suspects that this is the name of the vandal. Still, they are baffled of the crime because it has happened in a number of places that involve art, including fairs, schools, and even outdoors. This has been going on for about two weeks now, and no one has a clue on who the Maestro really is...."  
With that, the boy closed the newspaper and stood up straight. With a sigh, he said,  
"This is it....It's time for the master of disguise to get to work." This boy is Anthony McAllister,  
a new recruit brought in by Sherlock Hound. And he knows that it's time to get on with the case. He quickly goes into the alley close to the hotel and starts changing quickly in order to get his instructions and move on. He has a smile knowing that THIS is gonna be fun.


	2. A Strange Newcomer

11:35 a.m.  
A young female clerk was sitting behind the reception desk, doing her daily duties on checking in and checking out visitors. Then, she heard the door open and slowly started to look up, "Hello, may I help-..." She couldn't finish her sentence because she was starting to blush at the sight of the visitor. It was a young boy wearing a short-sleeved black and white striped shirt, a dark blue berret, black pants, white gloves, and white shoes. He was carrying a strange-looking violin case.  
The boy came up to the girl and said, "Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Uhhhh, I'm here to see ze four art students zat just came here from our home in France. I am here to check een if you please."  
It took a while for her to recover from her blushing, but she said, "Uhhh, sure. I-I'll uh, put you in Room 207, close to your friends if that's alright."  
"But, of course. It'll be a pleasure."  
"OK then, here you go." The clerk gave the boy the key to his room. "By the way, I haven't got your name."  
"Me? Oh, well I'm Pietro, Pietro Bartinelli."  
"Well, it's a....pleasure to meet you, sir."  
"Merci beau coup." He winked at the girl before heading to the stairs, and at that moment the girl fainted. Pietro smiled under his hat and thought, "Well, it looks like my disguise worked like a charm. Heheheheh."

Pietro climbed up the slanting stairways until he reached the second floor. There, he saw a whole hallway of rooms including Room 207. "There it is." Then, he started to put his hand in his pants pocket and started searching for something. "I need to look at that note Sherlock Hound gave me in that case file. I have to meet up with these four students. They could be anywhere around here." He finally pulled it out, unfolded it, and read it. "It is your duty to keep these four art students safe from any danger whatsoever. I'm already sure you know how to handle your disguise. We're all behind you on this one. -Sherlock Hound." Then, he looked at the bottom. "203, 209, 215, 220."  
"Hmm, these guys really want to stay together. I guess the last case got right them right into it." He finally put the note back in his pocket. "No matter, I'll find them. I'll start with 220 so I can be closer to MY room once I'm finished." Without hesitation, he went and did what he planned.

Pietro went up to Room 220 and knocked on the door. He could hear a voice inside saying, "Hang on, I'm coming!" The door opened and there stood a young man with a long-sleeved blue collared suit with a pink-collared shirt under it, blue pants, and brown shoes. He was looking strangely at the guy with the kooky-looking outfit. "Um, bonjour."  
Pietro tipped his hat in greeting. "Bonjour, Monsieur. Are you Paul?"  
The boy looked quite shocked. "Why, yes. How deed you know?"  
"Well, I've been hearing a lot about you and your friends at your art school. You're a pretty talented young fellow and I was called here from our home to 'ow you say, tag along."  
Paul then smiled, knowing that he's with them. "Well, it's good zat you can join us, Monsieur....."  
"Bartinelli, Pietro Bartinelli. And merci beau coup on your acceptance."  
"You're welcome. Oh! And if you are here to find my friends too, be very careful 'cause zhey can be a little defensive on strangers."  
"Oui, I heard about what happened zat time. Alright, zhanks for ze advice and I'll be on my way."  
"Nice talkeeng to you." With that, Paul closed his door and Pietro continued on his way.

The next room that Pietro went to was Room 215 and he knocked on the door. At first, he heard tumbling noises as if someone fell off a chair. Then, he heard rustling on the floor and a voice called out, "Who's zhere? And what do you want?"  
Pietro had a confused look on his face as he replied, "Uhh, I just wanted to meet Monsieur Armand."  
The door finally began to slowly open to reveal another young man who wore dark suspenders, a yellow-collared shirt, a bowtie, black shoes, and a pair of glasses. He moved his specs a little to see if the guy really is wearing strange clothes.  
After a long pause of staring, he finally said, "Um....hi."  
"Hi." Pietro kindly greeted. "I am Pietro Bartinelli, and I was called from our home to join you."  
"I see. Well, even zhough zhis eez quite unexpected, we are happy to have a newcomer een our treep."  
"Treep? Zhere eez a treep comeeng up?"  
"Oui, eef you want to get some more details, you need to see Louise een Room 209. She'll be happy to help."  
"Merci beau coup, Armand." Pietro tipped his hat and turned to go. Armand knows he isn't a kidnapper, but something doesn't seem right about him; how could he not know about the trip?

After a few more steps, Pietro finally made it to Room 209 and was about to knock until he heard a strange sound. It sounded like someone was humming while counting in French; Pietro knew that she was brushing her hair, so he just gently knocked on the door. Suddenly, he heard a slight shriek and the thumping sound of the falling hairbrush.  
The girl slowly creeped up to the door and softly said, "Ello? Eez somebody out zhere?"  
Pietro looked strangely at the door and replied, "Uh, oui? Zhere eez only person een front of zhis door."  
The door finally opened up and there stood a young girl, nearly the same age as him, wearing a pink long-sleeved art shirt, blue pants, and white shoes. She looked at the kooky-dressed boy quite strangely.  
"Uh, bonjour..." she finally greeted.  
"Bonjour." greeted Pietro tipping his hat. "My name's Pietro, and my guess eez you are Louise?"  
The girl was shocked to see that the boy knows her name. "Why, yes! But, how deed you know?"  
"Well, back at our home een France, I've been hearing 'ow you and your friends have been successful een your art school, so I was wondereeng if I can come join you een your treep."  
"Of course, Pietro. Eet eez good to have a newcomer to join us. Our teacher came weeth us to veezeet ze National Art Gallery here een London, so I zhink he won't mind you coming along."  
"Great, eez zhere anyone else joineeng us?"  
"Of course, mon ami. Ozher zhan Paul and Armand, zhere eez also Felipe een Room 205. He's usually ze serious one een our group when eet comes to art, eef you even try to protest against heem, he's most likely to punch you een ze gut een sayeeng he's right and you're wrong."  
"Uh oui, I zhink I can see zat. Well, I better see Andre myself before I head back to my room. You take care of yourself alright?"  
"Oui, I'll do zat." Pietro tipped his hat to leave, leaving Louise with a slightest hint of blush in her cheeks.

Pietro went up to Room 205 and pressed his ear to the door. It was quiet, too quiet. But when Pietro knocked on the door, there was a strange sound inside as if someone dropped a book and its pages are fluttering to the floor.  
The person inside rushed over and went close to it. "Who are you? And why are you here?"  
Pietro obviously had a thought that there are some weird characters in this hotel. "Uhhh, I'm Pietro Bartinelli and I want to join een your treep?"  
The door opened up to show a young man wearing a green long-sleeved collared shirt with a yellow short-sleeved shirt  
underneath, green pants, and black shoes. He looked at the boy the same way as the other three did. "Um, hi."  
"Hi." Pietro greeted, tipping his hat. "And I suppose you're Andre."  
"Oui, I am." said he. "I don't remember being informed about a newcomer on our treep."  
"Oh! Well, thees eez just short noteece." Pietro shrugged a little because he's unsure about Andre trusting him.  
"So, uh, where eez your teacher?"  
"Oh, he'll be here tomorrow leading us to ze National Gallery. Have you got your zhings packed up?"  
"Oui, I have."  
"And what's zat you got zhere?" Andre pointing at the strange-looking violin case Pietro was carrying all this time.  
"Oh, well zhis eez my instrument: Ze Bowed Psaltery."  
"Bowed psaltery? Oh, I heard about zhose. You know how to play one?"  
"Indeed, I do. But before we go any furzher on zis, I need to get to my room and prepare for ze afternoon."  
"Very well, then. Eet's been great talking to you."  
"Same here." Pietro tipped his hat and walked off as Andre closed the door behind him. "OK, zhose are ze art students zat Hound was referreeng to. I must keep a low profile to solve zhis case and keep them safe." With that, he headed to Room 207 and carefully closed his door.


	3. A Day at the Park

11:45 a.m.  
After a quick rest, Pietro got out of his room with his bowed psaltery case to get ready for lunch. He noticed that the art students weren't out yet, so he decided to go on ahead to the lobby and wait for them there. While going down the stairs, he accidently bumped into another man wearing black-collared long-sleeved shirt with a white short-sleeved shirt under it, blue pants, and black shoes.  
"Oh, my apologies, Monsieur!" said Pietro backing off a bit.  
"Don't worwy, dear lad." replied the man. "I know you deedn't mean any harm." His eyes suddenly lit up when he saw the boy.  
"Say...you're zat newcomer, my students were telleeng moi about."  
Pietro looked shocked when he heard this. "Wait, does zat mean...YOU are zheir teacher?"  
"Oui, zhat eez right. I am Monsieur Henri (pronounced On-ree) Gluant, and you are..."  
"Pietro, Pietro Bartinelli." The two shook their left hands in greeting.  
"Well, Monsieur Pietro, glad to meet you. I'm guessing you already met zhe four?"  
"Oui, I deed. Zhey were all very friendly and were glad zat I can come along."  
"Great. Well, I need to finish up my duties een my room, so make yourself comfortable and be prepared for tomorrow morneeng!"  
"I weell, Monsieur Gluant. Au revoir!" As the teacher continued his way up, Pietro continued his way down.

Once he got to the lobby, Pietro sat down on a nearby couch. It was very comfortable and he was close to falling asleep after 2 minutes had past.  
But luckily, the sound of the students coming down woke him up and they were glad to see him.  
"Bonjour, Pietro!" greeted Armand as he walked down and helped their new friend get up. "Boy, are we glad to see you."  
"Same here." replied Pietro. "I was kinda hungry for lunch, so I packed us a few sandweeches before entering ze hotel."  
"Great!" exclaimed Paul. "We'll be needing zhem later on. We're off to take a little walk in ze park and we're wondereeng eef you would like to join us."  
"I would love to!" answered Pietro.  
"Oh, good!" exclaimed Louise. "We really need ze company."  
"Just as long as you don't make any trouble." added Andre.  
"Relax, Andre." said Pietro. "We'll be fine." He slowly got up and started walking to the door.  
"I certainly hope so." With that, all five went out of the hotel and took a little stroll down the sidewalk.

Pietro was very observant to his many of his surroundings and he took a liking on how each part of London is affected by the fresh, clean weather of the upcoming afternoon. Some shops were closed for lunch, children were playing around the community parks, and others were just chatting about how their lives were today and what they wonder about tomorrow.  
Then, he started to think about the article he saw Anthony McAllister read about, and he thinks it's time to ask his friends a few questions. About 2 minutes later, they all got to the park close to the sea, and each one sat at a different place.  
Pietro first went to Paul and handed him a sandwich. "Paul, I wanted to ask you someting."  
"Go ahead, I'm all ears." replied Paul starting to munch on his meal.  
"OK, I want to know how you feel about the recent crime at our home."  
At once, Paul stopped and slowly looked at Pietro. "You mean ze vandal?" Pietro nodded his head. "Well...I have to say I'm quite shocked of ze whole zhing. I mean, eet was all peace and quiet in Paris (pronounced Par-ree for the students and Monsieur Gluant), and zen someone arrives to mess up some of ze greatest masterpieces being made..."  
The interview then came to Armand who was sitting on a bench. "I'm telling you eet eez a dishonor to ze arts and he doesn't even seem to care about eet. Painters are being frustrated over zheir vandalized artwork, sculptors are starting to quit zheir work because of zheir messed up statues, and furzhermore....  
It then came to Louise who was sitting on the edge of a fountain. "There eez barely anyone wanteeng to go to any of our galleries for zhey fear zat ze vandal would strike again, and eef zhey get een heez way, eet could be worse. But, for us...."  
The interview ended with Andre leaning against a tree. "We don't care eef zhis continues, we'll just have to keep on painting and scupting unteel ze vandal eez captured. Zhen, we can revive ze arts again weez no worries at all."

Later that afternoon, the five were sitting down on the grass and were eating their sandwiches Pietro prepared for them. Pietro was half-done with his sandwich and he started to think.  
"Hmmm, each of ze students have ze same reaction over zis whole topic of ze mysterious vandal. All are upset and want to keep going weez zheir work. But, are zhey are all honest about zat? Eet seems as zhough one of zhem eez tryeeng to avoid suspeecion, so he or she can get away weez another masterpiece vandalized....Well, whatever happens, I must keep on eye on zhem."

Then, his thoughts were startled by Paul's voice. "Hey, Pietro?"  
Pietro looked up. "Hm?"  
"Uh, I wanted to know about zat instrument you brought weez you."  
"Ze bowed psaltery? Oh! Well, eet eez a lot like a violin, but I zhink eet has sweeter music zan zat."  
"Can we see it?" asked Louise.  
"Oui, I'll be glad to show eet to all of you." Pietro reached for his triangular-shaped violin case and unlocked it to reveal his instrument. The bowed psaltery was shaped like a triangle with a square on the bottom, consisting of strings going vertical from top to bottom. The students liked the wooden texture and colors it has on the exterior.  
"Eet's very nice, Pietro." commented Armand. "I've never seen anyzhing like eet."  
"Well," began Pietro. "Ze bowed psaltery originated een Germany een 1925. Zhis instrument includes a set of strings arranged een chords, so zat one could play ze melody on ze bowed psaltery strings, and strum accompaniment weez ze ozher hand. Zhese are usually called violeen zeethers."  
"Sounds like muzeec eez a major for you een ze arts." said Andre smiling at his new friend and the instrument.  
Pietro nodded. "Oui, I truly love muzeec. But, I was only interested een streengs you see. And ze only instrument I found interest een was zhis." He held up his bowed psaltery."  
"I see." said Paul.  
"Can you play somezheeng for us?" asked an excited Louise. The sounding description of the instrument made her heart leap with joy and impatience.  
"Oui, s'il vous plaît." joined Armand.  
"OK, OK." chuckled Pietro. "I'll play a song for you, and zis one eez probably my most favoreete of all." The students all sat down around him, waiting for their new friend to play.

Pietro put his bow over his instrument, and once it touched the strings.....the world suddenly stopped for them and it was beginning to alter. And then....he started to sing.

Piove sull'Oceano (It rains on the Ocean)  
piove sull'Oceano (It rains on the Ocean)  
piove sulla mia identità (It rains on my identity)  
Lampi sull'Oceano (Lights on the Ocean)  
lampi sull'Oceano (Lights on the Ocean)  
squarci di luminosita (Gaps of luminosity)

(The gentle breeze of the wind suddenly became a little stronger and it began to blow the blossoms from the flowers and trees. They started to dance around each of the students before flying around the park. The song caught the attention of a few people and they wanted to see who was playing the music.)

Forse là in America (Maybe there in America)  
i venti del Pacifico (the winds of the Pacific)  
scoprono le sue immensita (Uncover its immensity)  
le mie mani stringono (My hands hold tight)  
sogni lontanissimi (some faraway dreams)  
e il mio pensiero corre da te (And my thoughts run to you)  
Remo, tremo, sento (I row, I shake, I feel)  
profondi, oscuri abissi (Deep dark abyss)  
E' per l'amore che ti do (It's for the love I give you)  
e per l'amore che non sai (and for the love you don't know)  
che mi fai naufragare (that makes me wreck)  
E' per l'amore che non ho (It's for the love I don't have)  
e per l'amore che vorrei (and for the love I'd want)  
e' per questo dolore (It's for this pain)  
E' questo amore che ho per te (It's for this love I have for you)  
che mi fa superare queste vere tempeste (That makes me get over those real storms)

(The few clouds in the sky suddenly begin to fly to the park and they began to circle around the park. More people began to come by to hear the boy play his music. The wind also began to gently touch the students' faces like a human hand and comfort them as Pietro continued his song.)

Onde sull'Oceano (Waves on the Ocean)  
Onde sull'Oceano (Waves on the Ocean)  
che dolcemente si plachera (that will gently calm down)  
Le mie mani stringono (My hands hold tight)  
sogni lontanissimi (some faraway dreams)  
e il tuo respiro soffia su me (and your breath blows on me)  
Remo, tremo, sento (I row, I shake, I feel)  
vento intorno al cuore (A wind around my heart)  
E' per I'amore che ho per te (It's for the love I have for you)  
che mi fa superare mille tempeste (That makes me get over thousands of storms)  
E'per l'amore che ti do (It's for the love I give you)  
e per l'amore che vorrei (It's for the love I give you)  
da questo mare (from this sea)  
E' per la vita che non c'e (It's for the life that isn't there)  
che mi fai naufragare (It's for the life that isn't there)  
infondo al cuore (that makes me wreck)  
Tutto questo ti avrà (deep in my heart)  
e a te sembrera (All this will have you)  
tutto normale (and to you everything will seem normal)

(The music suddenly stops and so does the altering world.....Then, Pietro played the last segment of his song and everything started to return to normal. The clouds went back to their original postion, the wind became a soft breeze again, and the blossoms went back to their rightful plants.)

At last, Pietro put down his bow and was surprised to see that it was not just the students who were watching but many others came too. At first, their faces were filled with shock over the tremendous power the boy's music has brought. But slowly, they started to smile and applauded Pietro for the song. Some even gave him a little bit of cash to him. Pietro thanked them and they were soon off on their way, leaving the five still sitting in the grass.  
After five whole minutes, Paul spoke up. "Zat was amazeeng, Pietro!"  
The others nodded in agreement. "Oui, I never heard of a muzeecian weez zat much potential." commented Andre.  
Pietro scratched his head a little. "Well, I do my best."  
"And eet was a performance even Chopin or Strauss would be impressed weez!" exclaimed Louise.  
Pietro blushed a little at her comment. "Well, merci beau coup, Louise."  
Armand then stood up and said, "Well, eet's getteeng a leetle late, so we better get back to ze hotel."  
"Oui," nodded Pietro. "We better get going." Packing up his instrument, the young musical prodigy and his four friends went back to the hotel.


	4. A Look into Pietro's Life

7:30 p.m. Later that evening, Pietro was on the balcony, watching the stars in the sky and he thought to himself, "It shouldn't be long before ze treep comes by. I steell need to keep an eye on my friends, zhey do need my help after all." His thoughts were suddenly stopped once again, this time by the sound of a knock on his door.  
"Come een!"  
The door opened up and much to his surprise, Louise walked slowly walked in. "Bonjour, Pietro."  
"Bonjour, Louise." Pietro replied with a smile. "What breengs you up here?"  
"Well..." began a nervous Louise. She didn't know what to say to him at this very moment. "I-I want to watch ze stars weez you, eef zat's alright?"  
"But, of course! Come on over!" Pietro had no clue whatsoever why she REALLY came along to his room. For a few long moments, they both were looking up to the sky, amazed at how stars were there and looked for any signs of constellations.  
Pietro nudged Louise a little and said, "Hey, see those stars to the right?"  
"Oui, I do." replied Louise. She looked to where the boy was pointing, but the constellation looks a little blurry. It consisted of a group of stars going down right, up left, straight right, down right again, a little up left, and down right once more. "Uh, what eez eet?"  
"Very hard to see, no? Zis one eez called ze "Leettle Fox- Vulpecula."  
Louise was amazed by the boy's analysis of this hard-to-see image in the dark-blue sky. "I...I had no idea."  
"I know. Many of us deedn't see it at first and thought it was just a bunch of faded stars. But, eef you look at eet a deeferent way, zhen you can see zat zhere eez more to zhose stars zhan just ze fact zat zhey're all scattered. Each one of zhose stars eez unique and zhey work togezher to show us what makes zhem special in zhis world."  
"I like how you said zat."  
Pietro looked surpised. "Wow, child psychology DEED do a good job on me." he thought to himself. Then, he looked to Louise and said, "Uh, oui, heheh, I've been kinda studyeeng on zhese sort of zhings."  
"I see." The two continued to look up at the stars and Louise felt a strange feeling inside her. Only she knows what it is and not Pietro, so it's not her fault. "Hey, Pietro?"  
Pietro looked at her again. "Oui?"  
The girl can feel the blood rush to her face as she tried to speak. "Uh...well, uh....Pietro...I..I was wondereeng what your life was like back een our home." Louise felt relieved after that.  
"Oh! Well, eet's sort of a long story...but I'll tell you anyway. You see when I was leetle, I deedn't really have any interest een ze arts whatsoever. I just zhought zat eet was boreeng and too hard to understand."  
"Eez zat so? Zhen how DEED you get eento ze arts zhen?"  
"Well, my Fahzher was a very arteestic man and he was very createeve whenver he paints a picture or even tells us a story. So, one day, I was goeeng outside for baird watcheeng because eet was one of my favorite acteevities to do. Zhen, while I was followeeng a blue jay, Fahzair came up to me and asked eef I knew what made ze birds seeng when zhey fly. I was very young at zat time, so I deedn't know for sure. Zhen, he told me zat zhey have notes inside zhem."  
"Notes?"  
"Museecal notes. Fahzair says zat bairds were geefted weez museec, and everyday, zhey love to fly off to deeferent places to try and put on a show, so other people can see zhem and leesten. We love to leesten to zhem so much, zat zhey inspired us to make muzeecal instruments, just so we can play along weez ze bairds and many ozhers who would love to join us.  
I realized zhen zat he had a good point, eef I loved watcheeng bairds so much, why can't I sing and play weez zhem too? So, from zat day, I was deeply een love weez ze arts (primarily muzeec), and I want to inspire ozhers to come and see somezheeng zhey might have been misseeng."

Louise smiled at Pietro and commented, "I must say, Pietro, your Fahzair WAS a very createeve man. Was he zhe one who gave you zat instrument?"  
"Ze bowed psaltery? Why, yes. He built eet himself a very long time ago and enjoyed how eet sounds."  
"Eet must have been very special. I mean, I never seen such an instrument zat can..well..." Louise tried to find the right words to describe the instrument. "..create...a world...zat eez...unlike any ozher."  
"Oui, I know. Fairst time I haird my Fahzair play eet, even I was amazed. He even said zat he's goeeng to geeve one to me too, but before zat happened, I had to learn a certain song about one of our favoreete arteests and one of heez most famous artworks of all time."  
The girl felt her heart leap for joy again. "Can you seeng eet to me, s'il vous plaît?"  
"Of course I weell, Louise. Hang on for a moment." Pietro went inside his room and brought out his bowed psaltery. "OK, here eet goes..." He placed his bow on the strings once more and started playing in a slow tempo. Suddenly, the night sky begins to change and a vision of memory appears depicting a red-haired man putting different colors in on different canvases.

Starry, starry night  
Paint your pallet blue and gray  
Look out on the summer's day  
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul  
Shadows on the hills  
Sketch the trees and daffodils  
Catch the breeze and winter chill  
In colors on the snowy linen land

(Louise sees that the man is very sad when he paints his pictures.)

Now I understand  
What you tired to say to me  
And how you suffered for your sanity  
And how you tried to set them free  
They would not listen  
The did not know how  
Perhaps they'll listen now

(The colors suddenly form into the artist's masterpieces.)

Starry, starry night  
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze  
Swirling clouds in violet haze  
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue  
Colors changing hue  
Morning fields of amber gray  
Weathered faces lined in pain  
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand

Now I understand  
What you tried to say to me  
And how you suffered for your sanity  
And how you tried to set them free  
They would not listen  
They did not know how  
Perhaps they'll listen now

(The man still feels sad about his work and walks away from his work.)

For they could not love you  
But still your love was true  
And when your love was left inside  
On that starry, starry night  
You took your life as lovers often do  
But I could have told you, Vincent  
This world was never meant for one  
As beautiful as you

(A gallery of the artist's paintings are show in a straight line.)

Starry, starry night  
Portraits hung in empty halls,  
Frameless head on nameless walls,  
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.  
Like the strangers that you've met  
The ragged men in ragged clothes  
The silver thorn, a bloody rose  
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow

(The portrait of the man now shows in the vision.)

Now I think I know  
What you tried to say to me  
And how you suffered for your sanity  
And how you tried to set them free  
They would not listen  
They're not listening still  
Perhaps they never will....

(Pietro played the last few notes and the vision slowly disappears.)

Pietro put his instrument down and was surprised to see that Louise was wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't zhink I can make you ZAT emotional."  
Louise looked up with tear-stained eyes and smiled. "No, no, don't say zat. Zat was really delightful. I deedn't know much about Van Gogh's life unteel now."  
"Oui, heez life was a very sad one, but heez paintings are steell around us and we can appreciate heem for all zat he's done for us despite ze tradgedy."  
"Oui." Louise said with a sniff. "You're right. Well, it's getteeng late and I must get back to my room." She slowly bowed to Pietro. "Au revoir."  
"Au revoir." And with that, Louise closed the door behind her and Pietro continued to look up. "Eet probably won't be long teell zat vandal strikes again. I must succeed in zhis case, so I can join my mentor."


	5. The Trip

8:45 a.m.  
Pietro woke up very early and started getting ready for the trip. First, he went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. Once he was through, he got out of his pajamas and go on his clothes for the day. Once he got out of the door, he spotted Henri Gluant coming down the hallway to wake up the students.  
"Bonjour, Monsieur Glaunt." he greeted from a distance.  
Gluant looked across the hall and spotted Pietro already prepared in front of his room. "Oh, bonjour, Pietro!" He came over to him and shook his hand. "Well, I'm surprised to see zat you are already awake! Say, can help me get ze students out of zheir rooms?"  
"Oui, I'll be glad to help." He started down the hall going to each of the rooms for a little wake up call. He first knocked on Paul's door. "Monsieur Gluant says eet's time for us to go!"  
He could hear Paul groaning inside. "Already? Ugh, can't eet be at a later time?"  
"We don't want to be late, Paul. Hurry up." Next, Pietro went to Armand's room and knocked. "Armand, it's time for us to go!"  
Armand was also groaning inside. "Now? Ugh, why now?"  
"No time for questions, we must go." Then, Pietro went to Louise's room. Knowing a girl can be really sensitive to distrubances during a nap, he knocked only softly. "Louise, we need to get ready now!"  
Louise can be heard moaning a little. "Can't I just get five more mintues?"  
"I'll geeve you two, ze rest should be for getteeng out here."  
"Oh, alright." Finally, Pietro went to Andre's room. But before he could lift a finger to knock, the door suddenly began to open slowly and there stood Andre with small bags in his eyes and he looked a little mad.  
"I know, Pietro." he said before shutting the door behind him. Pietro stared at it for a while, but shrugged his shoulders in thinking he's okay and went off.

Approximately 15 minutes later, the four French art students, their musical friend, and their teacher all left the hotel, called for a cab, and were immediately on their way to the National Art Gallery.  
Andre was the first to speak. "Hey, Pietro?"  
Pietro looked immediately at him. "Hm? What eez eet, Andre?"  
"Uh, I was wondereeng eef you ever been to ze Gallery before."  
"Oh, oui, I have! Yes, eet eez fascinateeng to explore many wonderous works of some of ze greatest arteests of previous centuries and how eet eenspires us to express our thoughts more when we either paint, sculpt, or even play museec." He quickly winked at Louise and she winked back before anyone else can notice. "I must ask,  
uh, what eez ze purpose on being een zis treep anyway?"  
"Might 'ave sleeped your mind huh?" said Paul. "Zat's okay. Well, recently while ze vandal was steell on ze loose, well, we deed not kno zis yet, but our school has secretly kept a collection of artwork zat hasn't been touched for a long time."  
"How long may I ask?"  
"Leetle over 7 years or so."  
"Zat long?"  
"Oui," said Louise. "Zhere have been ozher problems regardeeng zheft or forgeeng, so ze school admineestrator suggested to keep 'em safe unteel eet's safe to breeng zhem back out again."  
"So, they want to do eet now?"  
"Of course," said Armand. "Seence ze vandal doesn't about zis, ze treep may be our only chance to save zheese great works of art and get ze French art world back on track."  
"I see. Well, at least we get to see somezheeng zat hasn't been vandalized yet."  
"I agree weez you on zat." said Gluant. "And ze gallery curator weell make sure zat everyzhing eez kept safe. Hm, he always guarantees eet."  
"I just hope you're right."

The carriage suddenly came to a stop and there at the left hand window was the National Art Gallery of London. It was surprisingly great in both height and width and had a Romanesque style of texture. Louise stepped out first, then came Armand, Andre, Paul, Pietro, and finally, Monsieur Henri Gluant. They all climbed up the steps  
and got to the door. They all quietly opened the door and stepped inside. The inside was spectacular sight to see: along the walls, there were rows of paintings on different styles of artwork, and on different corners, there were sculptures and statues of different historic figures and objects. Suddenly, a man by wearing a brown jacket, a brown pair of pants, and brown shoes.  
He was fairly tall and had a pair of glasses on.  
"Ah, good to see you, my dear Gluant." He shook his friend's hand gratefully.  
"Good to see you too, Monsieur Simmons." Gluant turned to his students and Pietro and said, "Students, Pietro, thees eez ze museum curator, Monsieur Jonathan Simmons.  
"Well, it is very nice to meet you all." The curator shook each of the students' hands especially Pietro. "Your teacher has explained everything to me, so come with me everyone and we will get things started." The group walked down the hall to the right and went into a room which Pietro can describe as the realistic room. Every painting that was seen nearly looked like a photograph and every landscape, portrait, or still-life had no hint of lines.  
Each student observed carefully at the different colors and brushstrokes each artist had done to complete his or her masterpiece. Andre looked over to his left and was curious to know what Pietro was looking at. He came over and asked, "Bonjour, Pietro."  
"Hm?" Pietro turned around and saw his friend behind his right shooulder. "Oh, Andre! What eez eet?"  
"Uh, I was going to ask what you are looking at."  
"Oh, zhis?" Pietro pointed to a portrait with a royal dressed Englishman standing in what it looks like the mountainside. "Well, you see how most of ze colors suddenly blend in weez ze light and dark?"  
"Oui, I can see zat."  
"Well, I'm guessing zat zhis painting was done een ze afternoon since ze slight violet over ze blue somewhat portrays zat eet eez almost eveneeng."  
"Hmmm, very impresseeve."  
"Merci beau coup."

15 minutes later, the group continued upstairs and saw more paintings and sculptures ahead. Being curious about something, Pietro asked, "Hey, uh, Armand?"  
Armand looked at him. "Oui? What eez eet?"  
"Um, sorry eef I'm a leetle impatient, but uh, when exactly weell we see ze painteengs you guys were mentioneeng?"  
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough."  
When they finally stopped again for a while, Pietro's name was called out by another familiar voice. "Pietro?"  
The boy turned to see Louise waving from the right. "Oui? Have you found somezheeng?" He went over to where she was and looked at what painting she stopped on. He was fairly surprised and smiled at what he sees: The painting, "Starry Night" by Vincent Van Gogh. Louise smiled at Pietro as she remembered last night when he sang the song to her. "I could see zat you like eet now, huh?"  
Louise replied, "Oui, I just can't help my self when I first saw zhis." She was a slight hint of blush in her cheeks, but she's lucky that Pietro doesn't notice it.  
"By ze way, I saw ze Mona Lisa over on ze left side. Wanna see eet?"  
"Sure!" While the others were still examining the artwork, Mr. Simmons was keeping an eye on them and then started looking around suspiciously.  
After a while, the students were led farther down to the left and were led to a room that was beginning to fill halfway with people.  
"I'm guessing zat zis eez where your secretly kep artwork eez." Pietro said to Paul.  
"Magnifique!" replied he. "Zat's right! Zis eez ze place!" Pietro was very amazed at how many great works of art the French art school stored and brought inside the museum! One of which he was interested in was Jean Le Blanc's Flying Dandelion which was a realistic still-life with perfect brushtrokes of bright colors, making it as if the flowers of the dandelion are really coming out. Andre took  
a liking into Marion Aljean's Skipping Stone at Sea, a semi-realistic still-life that did well on making the splash effects and the path of the stone. Armand liked Eduard St. Just's Master of the Rapier, a semi-realistic portrait that does a good job on separating and blending the light and dark colors, especially making the blade look shiny. Louise took notice of Margarite Le Pierr's Sisters in String, a realistic group portrait that shows expressionism by the way the colors are shown as if the music is soothing, peaceful, and in sinc. Finally, Paul saw Claude Tristaiz's semi-realistic landscape, Stardust at Night, and decided to peek closer at how the lighter colors are "magically" becoming bright over the darker colors. As he was getting there, there was suddenly a huge flash of light coming in and it blinded the boy for a while.  
"Oh, sacre bleu! I can't see! Where am I? Eez somebody zhere? Anyone, anyone?" The other students tried to control their friend as he started to get a little paranoid. Pietro looked at where that light came from and it looked like it was from a flasher of a camera. The photographer was wearing a green shirt, forest green pants, brown shoes, and a black hat on his head. He looked a little embarassed over what he did.  
"Oh, dear!" The man rushed to the boy and helped clear up his sense. "I'm sorry, dear lad. You alright?"  
"Eet's fine." Paul answered.  
"Felipe!" cried out Mr. Simmons and the man turned around at the sound of his name. "How many times do I need to tell you to be careful with our guests?"  
"Sorry, sir." Felipe scratched the back of his head in shame. "I'm trying, but I just dropped my flasher on acceedent."  
Mr. Simmons clasped his hand on his head and sighed. "I went through all the trouble to find a world-class photographer for this event, and what do I get? A novice who's no more than a big, notorious klutz!"  
Felipe hung his head at the sound of hearing that. Pietro knew that he's taking it reather harsh, so he went over to him. "Monsieur Felipe?"  
The photographer looked up at the boy. "Oui?"  
"Hey, uh, I know you deedn't do zat on purpose."  
"Oui," said Paul coming in. "We know you deedn't mean any harm at all."  
"Merci beau coup." replied Felipe, smiling a little. "But, I'm afraid zat my clumsiness eez what keecked me out of most of ze jobs I was asked to do. One time, I was supposed to get a few photos of ze new steamboat, but I treeped over a wooden plank and fell into ze reever along weez my camera!" The two both looked a little shocked at that part. "Anozher time, I was assigned to take some footage of ze much recent livestock kidnappeeng. But as I stepped back to take a picture of ze rooster, my shoes slipped on ze mud and I let go of my flasher. Eet heet ze ground and ze light frightened ze ozher aneemals and caused a stampede een ze countryside!" The boys were even more shocked to hear that one. Felipe stopped talking for a while and slowly scratched his head some more. "And soon, I got replaced by Gavroche Duvall. He always makes sure to get heez work done and eez always careful on what he's doeeng. Why can't I ever be like heem?"  
Paul put his hand over the photographer's shoulder. "So what if you're not a world-class photographer? You can just try again and don't geeve up. I'm not upset at you for blindeeng me, and I know you'll do great een zhis one."  
"I hope so. Au revoir zhen." Felipe tipped his hat and left a little bit nervously.  
Suddenly, the two heard Armand say, "Hey, you two! Come on over! We're goeeng to see one of ze greatest works of art zat our school has taken pride of!"  
While they both followed their friends, Pietro wondered, "One of ze greatest, hm? I wonder...."


	6. An Unwelcome Guest

The group along with several other people all went to the north wall and saw there was a great row of self-portraits. Each one represented a memory of a star student from the art school in Paris. Everyone from Diane St. Just to Brice Choplan were all hung in a row. The students were very amazed at how well the applied colors reflect on each painter's personality. Pietro couldn't help but comment, "I say! Zhis eez wonderful!"  
"Indeed, zhey are." said Louise. "You can see zat each student here painted zheir self-portraits weez ze style zat fits zhem best and ze colors zat best suites zhem on how zhey feel."  
"Oui," said Andre nodding his head. "But here eez one zat really stands out among ze ozhairs." Pietro looked at where Andre was pointing and saw what he was talking about. In the center was a picture of a young man wearing a green jacket, a brown hat, and a black shirt underneath.  
"Who's zhis guy?" Pietro asked in wonder.  
"Oh, zhis eez Monsieur Campion Serenaid." replied Paul.  
"That's right." said Mr. Simmons as he came over to the students. "You see, Campion Serenaid was considered a child prodigy of art when he first started entering fairs and competitions. He has studied under his parents ever since he was 8 years old and each lesson he took made his art take to the next level. By the time he got to the art school in Paris, he still maintained his studies and was able to succeed in using any kind of art syle for his works of art."  
"I guess the name speaks for itself." commented Armand.  
"Indeed," said Monsieur Gluant. "Campion was always serious about art, alot like Andre. He's very conscientous and doesn't want to stop to rest 'til he's done."  
"Seems as though he put a lot of effort into this painting." commented Pietro.  
"I agree, Pietro." said Paul. "Weez masterwork such as zhis, eet was best for us to keep eet safe for a long time." The crowd continued moving to the left to see Pepe Varsaille while the two continued their conversation.  
Pietro seemed a little bit worried all of a sudden. "Uh, Paul, are you sure zat Maestro won't come and vandalize any of zhese paintings?"  
Paul looked at him quite strange. "Are you keedding? Our art school hasn't spoken a seengle word about zhem, so how can ze vandal come over here een London? I mean, zat weell be crazy!"  
"Uh, oui, crazy indeed." Pietro could sense something very strange that might possibly lead them to trouble.  
"Besides, ze secureety een zhis gallery eez very tight. So tight and so well-guarded, a snake couldn't sleether een weezout setteeng off a seengle alarm!"  
"Eez zat so?"  
"What? You don't trust...." Before Paul could finish his sentence, the lights suddenly went out and everything was black. Every person in the building was terrified, including the students, the teacher, and the curator. They were all waving their hands around to see if there was anything to hold on to before the lights went back on. Just then, two big flashes of light came in with a sound of a click; it didn't take a genius to figure out that Felipe caused another accident. Fortunately, the lights went back on and everyone felt relieved. Some were holding on to the wall, while others however were holding onto other visitors. One in particular is Louise holding onto Pietro, but she let go immediately before her other friends noticed. She was left blushing that she actually touched him.

The visitors were all looking around dumbfounded as if the opening of the lights was new to them. "What happened?" asked one.  
"Is everyone alright?" asked Mr. Simmons.  
"Everyone eez okay, Monsieur Simmons." said Gluant.  
"Monsieur Gluant!" called out Armand rubbing his eyes with one arm and holding his glasses with the other. "Are you alright?"  
"I'm fine, Armand, merci."  
"Monsieur Gluant," asked Andre looking a little stern. "What on Earz made zhose lights go off like zat?" Before the teacher could answer, there was a loud scream of a woman nearby.  
The man who turned out to be her husband came over to her and asked, "My dear, what ever is the matter?"  
"Look!" she cried pointing at the center of the north wall. Right away, the husband was awestruck at the sight, so was everyone else who looked around the room. The west, north and east walls were all written in seven big, italic, cursive letters, all spelling one word......MAESTRO.  
Paul was shocked to see this disturbing masterpiece in London's own national gallery. He slowly shook his head in disbelief. "Non...non, how can zhis happen?"  
"I don't believe eet." said Louise as she peered into Campion Serenaid's self portrait and sees one giant 'M' on the hat. "Maestro has struck again!"  
"But, we never told anyone about zhese works of art in years." said Andre beginning to wonder. "How deed ze vandal hear about zhis?"  
Suddenly, another man came over and spoke to Mr. Simmons. "Sir, I tried to call Scotland Yard about this crime, but it seems as though I can't get a hold of them."  
"Dash it all!" cried out the curator in rage. "Just when things were going well as planned, THIS had to happen!"  
The students felt a little worried about this situation and were wondering what they're supposed to do. "We never should have brought zhese painteengs here een ze first place!" said Armand showing his arm to the vandalized room. "Look at ze praise we got from doeeng so!"  
"I agree." said Armand. "Eet would've been better to hold eet off a beet longer."  
But, Paul seemed to protest against the two. "Hey, we're supposed to be supporters of art! Remember what we promeesed when zhis vandal struck feerst een our home? We need to keep expressing ourselves so ze French art world can leeve again!"  
"Well, sure, we remember zat," began Louise. "But, we're not sure eef eet's worth eet anymore." But then, something caught her eye: Pietro was extrememly close to the wall and was starting to touch the ink of the big letters and looking at his finger. "Uh, Pietro? What are you doeeng?"  
Pietro turned around to look at Louise who came over to him in wonder. "Hmm? Oh, I was just takeeng a look at ze writeengs on ze wall. I must say, Maestro deed a pretty good job on covereeng up a whole room in a few minutes." He showed her the index finger which was covered in black ink.  
"See zhis? Ze ink on ze wall eez steell wet."  
"We know zat." said Louise. "What's ze beeg deal?"  
After a short pause and a strange look in his eyes, Pietro spoke out. "Ze deal eez zat ze vandal eez steell here..." All who heard this turned and looked at the boy with surprise. Can the vandal still be here in the gallery?  
Mr. Simmons came over to Pietro and said, "Listen here, um, what's your name?"  
"Pietro."  
"Pietro, right, Pietro. Listen here, Pietro, I know that you are a new French art student, but when you were examining the vandalized wall, you sounded like you knew what you were talking about." He put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Maybe YOU can help us solve this crime!"  
Pietro looked a little surprised, so were the students and their teacher. "Me? But, I'm not ze local law." But, unknown to the people, Pietro WAS meant be here to solve this case.  
"For the next half an hour, you are. We're are all counting on you to find this vandal before he messes with another one of our great works of art! Can you please help us?"  
Pietro thought for a moment and looked up at Mr. Simmons. He also looked at his friends who were eager for his assistance. "I will try, for zhere eez a certain time leemit zat ze ink weell dry up on zhese walls. Eef zat happens, zhen I would have estroyed zhis vast collection of masterpieces....forever."


	7. An Overlooked Clue

9:25 a.m.  
It became true to the people inside the gallery that the vandal known as Maestro has struck here in London. Now, they were all watching Pietro examine the black vandalized letters with his index finger. He then turned around and started walking toward the group behind him, including the four French art students and their teacher.  
"Will you be able to ?" asked Mr. Simmons with a hopeful look on his face.  
"Oui," said Pietro. "But, I need to ask a favor from ze people here." He continued to the crowd and said to them, "Eef anyone has a pen of any sort, please roll up your sleeves and take eet out carefully so ze ink won't go on any of your clothes." He turned to his friends and the teacher and said, "For you guys, you're fine 'cause I know none of you would have any reason to toil weez our art." Though the students felt relieved that we weren't being suspected, they were a little confused over their new friend's methods. How could a pen spill its ink on one's clothes if they are already closed? Pietro watched carefully as each person rolled up his or her sleeves and take out their pens carefully and handed them in one by one. Pietro studied each of the pens carefully, looking every inch of their length and width and feeling their very sharp tips. He went back to the vandalized room and started to examine which tips worked best for this kind of fancy handwriting.  
He then called out, "Paul, Armand, Louise, Andre, come ovair here for a meenute." The four students did as they were told and came to the vandalized wall.  
"What eez eet?" asked Andre. "Did you find somezheeng?"  
"You bet I deed." Pietro replied. "Take a look at zhis." He pointed at each of the letters in the name "MAESTRO." "What can you make out of all of zhis?"  
Paul looked at it first and said, "Well, ze writeeng eez quite perfect, somewhat een calligraphy."  
"Indeed." said Louise. "Zhis kind of writeeng would have been done by a writer who's elegance far surpasses many een France."  
"Magnifique!" applauded Pietro. "I see zat you have been taught quite well. However, I see somezheeng else here zat you four may have overlooked."  
"And what would zat be?" asked Armand with interest.  
"Well, how would you make out of ze letters?"  
Andre took a good look at it and responded, "Hmm, ozhair zhan ze fact zat's zhere's no sign of any dripeeng ink, eet's hard to believe zat zis "Maestro" can do all of zhis in a just few meenutes!"  
"Very true, Andre, but Maestro was able to vandalize an entire wall quickly een at least one stroke of ink. But, you steell haven't found ze zheeng zat I was referreeng to."  
"What do you mean?" asked Louise.  
Pietro pointed at each of the letters from left to right. "What I see eez zat Maestro writes from right to left." At that moment, the four students were puzzled.  
"Right to left?" asked Armand. "How can zat be?"  
Pietro continued with his explanation. "Well, ze English language, as I'm sure you are aware, reads from left to right. Our Maestro does heez writeeng backwards: right to left." He pointed at the letter 'O' first then across to the 'M'. "You can tell NOW by ze overlay of ze letters."  
The four students now understood and were quite impressed by this. But, Andre began to wonder out loud, "Why would Maestro write from right to left?"  
At that moment, Pietro started to giggle to himself. A confused Paul asked, "What's so funny, Pietro? Zhis eez a serious matter."  
The new friend stopped immediately and responded, "You call yourselves art students, and yet, you don't understand at all. I zhought you knew." This made the students even more confused. How does Pietro know about this stuff and not them?

Suddenly, one guard came over to Mr. Simmons and said to him, "Sir, sorry to bother you at this moment, but we have just found the reason why the lights suddenly went out!"  
Mr. Simmons was interested to hear this. "Is that so? Proceed with your report."  
The guard cleared his throat and started to speak. "Well, sir, it was not much, but when we were caught in the blackout, we searched our surroundings to see if we can find the lights. Once we found the lighting room, we found that the wires to the new French art room were slightly cut and the door was strangely unlocked.  
Right now, our technicians are working on fixing them both."  
The curator suddenly became confused. "Only slightly? How could the lights go off in a flash when the wires were only cut a little and how did the vandal manage to break in without a trace?"  
"Maybe I can answer that." said Pietro's voice from behind.  
Mr. Simmons turned around in an instant when he heard it. "Oh, Pietro!" He took a sigh of relief before he continued. "I can see that you are still investigating. So, have you found anything suspicious?"  
"Of zat, I deed, Monsieur Simmons. Your guard says zat someone went inside ze lighting room weezout breakeeng down ze door?"  
"Yes, that's right."  
"Well, you might zheenk I'm crazy, but my guess eez zat ze vandal had to use a certain tool in order to unscrew some of ze heenges and open ze door easily."  
"A certain tool? But, no one other than the technicians have tools for fixing and unscrewing things."  
"True, but Maestro deedn't have to ask a technician een order to open a door. Instead, he had to use a sharper tool to act as an alternate screwdriver and make heez way eenside."  
Mr. Simmons thought for a moment and suddenly his eyes lit up. "You mean like a sharp-tipped pen!"  
Pietro nodded his head and said, "Precisely."  
Armand then came over and asked him, But, why would he choose to slightly cut ze wires when he could'ave cut zhem altogezher."  
"Well, I'm glad you asked zat, mon ami. You see, eef Maestro cut zhem all ze way, ze sound of his runneeng footsteps might'ave led ze guards eento trackeeng heem down. So, to avoid suspicion, he secretly cut ze wires only a little beet and caused a brownout in order for heem to quickly vandalize ze room. I'm guessing he's very smart een zheenking on how time he has left before ze lights go back on."  
"I see."  
Then, Monsiuer Gluant came over and asked, "But, eef ze lights were completely off for a while, how come zhere were two flashing lights in ze room? Well, I know Felipe might'ave dropped heez own camera again, but where deed ze ozher light come from?"  
"Well, Monisuer Gluant, that can be explained by one of your students who were weez you. Right, Armand?"  
Armand looked shocked as he stared at Pietro. "What? What do you mean by zat?"  
"Well, seence you were steell wearing your glasses, you were at least lookeeng at ze corner where Felipe's camera was. Once eet flashed, ze surroundeeng light flashed off your glasses and eet might'ave, how you say, spooked Maestro een sayeeng zat he might be caught right zen and zhere."  
At hearing this, Armand and Monsieur Gluant stared at each other in obvious shock. The guard looked at Mr. Simmons and said, "Never thought I'd say it, but that kid is good!"  
Pietro turned back to the vandalized wall. "Hmm, alzhough eet eez very strange zat zhere eez no sign of any smear when Maestro deed zhis."  
Andre looked at his friend quite strangely. "Smear? What do you mean by zat?" Suddenly, there was a noise of running footsteps nearby. The students all turned to see Paul starting to make a break for it down the hall.  
Pietro too started to take off after him. "Paul! Paul, wait!"


	8. Felipe Steps Up

9:35 a.m.  
The running footsteps of both Paul and Pietro were heard throughout the whole museum. Paul quickly turned the left corner to the hall of sculptures and still-life followed by Pietro. Pietro had to be careful in this area, if any of these statues fall, he's gonna get busted (literally.  
"Paul!" Pietro called out. "Paul, can't we just talk about zhis?"  
"Non!" Paul shouted back. "I know what you want, and I am not going back!" The voice seemed to come from the left side of the room.  
Pietro was walking slowly to Paul's probable position. "Zhis eez not what you zhink, Paul. I just wanna talk to you."  
"Talk...non! No talkeeng! You can't take me back!" At that moment, Pietro heard a creaking from behind. Sure enough, he turned around to see one of the statues about to fall on him. Pietro acted fast in stopping it in its tracks and place it back up, but he saw Paul continuing to run and bump into a few more statues with each step he took. Pietro ran as fast as he could and skidded across the floor, placing each falling statue back up. Paul was getting closer to the entrance of the room, until Pietro rushed to the statue close to it, and tilted it to Paul. He ducked under the spreaded arm, but Pietro picked the statue up again in order to use the arm to grab Paul's collar and get him.  
As he continued lifting the statue up, bringing Paul up higher, Pietro said, "C'mon Paul, we need to talk."  
Seeing that he got nowhere else to go, Paul let Pietro lead him back to the crime scene.

Paul was standing in front of his teacher and friends, feeling ashamed over running away. Andre was the first to speak.  
"Paul, you should never have run off like zat. Pietro is trying to help us here."  
"I know." replied Paul. "But I just felt a leetle...nairvous."  
"Nairvous?" asked Louise. "How can you be nairvous when our friend was investigating ze crime?"  
Paul took a deep breath before continuing. "Well...it was when he said zat Maestro deedn't leave any sign of a smear. I deedn't quite get it at fairst, but I soon feegured out why he zhought zat."  
"Why?" asked Monsieur Gluant.  
"Because...our Maestro writes from right to left."  
"He what?" asked Mr. Simmons.  
Pietro called out to them. "Come ovair here, everyone and he weell show you what he meant."  
Once the crowd did so, Paul pointed to Maestro's name on the vandalized paintings. "Ze English language,as I'm sure you are aware, usually reads from left to right. Maestro deed hees tag backwards: right to left. You can tell by ze ovairlay of ze lettairs."  
Louise saw that her friend was right, but was a little confused. "Why would Maestro write from right to left?" The only response she could get was a little chuckle from Pietro. "What's so funny?"  
Pietro replied, "You say zat you are four art students and yet you don't understand zhis? Here, I weell show you." He took out a piece of paper from his pocket and borrowed a spare from Mr. Simmons. "Armand, I want you to write out your name here."  
Not wanting to upset him, Armand used his right hand to write out his name on the left corner.  
"Very good. Now try eet weez your left hand." Armand did so, but he felt a little strange as he tried to keep his left hand stable to write. The only things that came out were scribbles, squiggles, and.  
"Smears!" cried out Andre. "Zhere were smears when Armand wrote his name with his left hand."  
"Zat's right." said Pietro. "Zhere can be mistakes eef you try to swtich hands when writing. However, zhere eez a way for zhis not to happen to Maestro... Paul, can you demonstrate zhis for us."  
Not wanting to upset his friends, Paul immediately took the pen with his left hand and wrote his name under Armand's. But there was one thing different about his name though, instead of writing from left to right... he wrote it from right to left. He successfully wrote out his name without making any smears whatsoever.  
Pietro looked to his astonished friends and asked, "Well, now what does zhis say about our Maestro?"  
Louise quickly replied, "Zat he eez left-handed! Maestro knew zat hees work might be messed up eef he writes eet normally. So, instead of writing from left to right, he wrote it from right to left!" "Zat's right, and it was ze reason why Paul tried to escape."  
Paul hung his head and said, "I'm sorry, but if I was asked which hand I use then you would all zhink I deed eet."  
Andre put his hand on his shoulder and said, "C'mon Paul, we know you. You would nevair do such a zhing to ruin zhese great works of art. You have a love for ze arts too and zat's why we'll Paul looked up at Andre and smiled. "Merci beau coup, Andre."

The other students were glad that Paul's name was cleared out, but Pietro didn't quite feel satisfied. "Eez somezhing wrong, Pietro?" asked Louise.  
"Oui," said he. "I know we've identified a leetle of ze culprit, but now we got a beegair problem."  
"What problem would zat be?" asked Armand cleaning his glasses.  
"Well, eet turns out zat I have no logeec of anyone else who eez left-handed."  
"I know what you mean." said Mr. Simmons. "It turns out that a small percentage of London's population are left-handed. I'm afraid we might not have enough time to question all of them about this crime, given the fact that we have 15 minutes left."  
Pietro turned to a seat close at the center of the room. "15 more meenutes...a lot more suspects...but no answer. His pause for thought was then interrupted by a bright flash of light. "Felipe, you are, how you say, makeeng us see spots."  
"Sorry," said Felippe, scratching his head in embarassment. "I zhink my flasher needs to be feexed up again." But suddenly, a thought came to Pietro's head at the mention of the flasher.  
"Wait a meenute...Felipe, where were you when ze flasher went off?"  
"Uhhhh, I was standing close to Monsieur Simmons to take a few pictaires of ze painteengs."  
"And which painteeng were you aiming for before ze lights went out?"  
"Uhh well, I was going to take my fairst shot at Campion Serenaid."  
At that moment, Pietro snapped his fingers. "Zat's eet! Maestro wouldn't have left eef zat camera deedn't flash at ze targeted portrait."  
Louise then exclaimed, "Zhen zat means zat peecture Felipe took might show who ze culpreet eez?"  
Mr. Simmons then started to shrug. "Uh well, I know we are getting close to arresting the vandal, but I'm afraid we don't have any place for film development."  
"Oh, sacre bleu!" said Pietro.  
"Actually, Monsieur Simmons," said Felipe. "I can help develop ze feelm by using a few household ingredients."  
"Can you really?" asked Paul. "Zat would be wonderful! Just what do you need exactly?"  
Felipe then ordered, "Bring me bakeeng soda, vinegar, and coffee grounds!" The security guards all went to find the supplies and the photographer turned to Mr. Simmons. "And last but not least, show me to a room...a dark room..."

9:45 "Come on, we must hurry!" said Andre, feeling a little anxious about saving the works of art.  
"Calm down, mon ami." said Louise. "Felipe is almost done."  
Felipe continued to soak his film into the liquid for a few more seconds. He lifted up the film using a pair of tonsils for the fifth time and said, "Done."  
Pietro looked closely into the film to see if he can find the crime scene. Once he found what he was looking for, he looked at Felipe and said, "A world-class photographer couldn't represent what you just did, Felipe. Remember zat." With that, the clumpsy photographer felt a lot better.

(So, who do YOU think vandalized the paintings?)


	9. Maestro Revealed!

Pietro along with the students and the photographer came back to the crime scene. "I know who deed eet." Those very words stilled the hearts of the entire crowd and they all wondered who vandalized the paintings. Each person looked at one another not knowing on what's about to come. Pietro began to look around the room,  
scanning for the criminal that he suspected. He scanned the visitors, he scanned the proper authorities, he even scanned the French art students. He kept at it for about a few more seconds until he spotted the one he was looking for. He gazed at him quite sternly and the others were quite shocked at who he was accusing.

"Monsieur Gluant?" wondered Armand out loud. "Ze culprit?"  
"Zat's imposseeble." said Andre. "Zhere's just no way."  
But Pietro disagreed with him. "Oh, he's not just Maestro..." He walked over to the center self-portrait and pointed at it for everyone else to see. "He's Monsieur Campion Serenaid, ze child prodigy of art." As Campion started to grit his teeth at being discovered, the rest of the crowd gasped in horror!

Mr. Simmons and the students couldn't believe their ears. The Paul's mouth began to tremble with shock. "Y-You mean, YOU are Campion Serenaid?"

Louise then said, "But...But...why would he attempt to destroy his own painting? His own beautiful....beautiful painting."

"Questions later," said Mr. Simmons. "Painting restorations now!"

Under his breath, Campion hissed, "Not eef I can help eet!" With that he grabbed one of the visitors and threw him out to Pietro before running out of the door.

It didn't take Pietro a minute to know that the culprit was trying to get away. "Oh no, you don't!"

"Pietro, wait!" Louise called out as she ran after him.

Andre looked at Paul and Armand and said, "Come on, we have to stop Monsieur Serenaid!"

"Oui!" answered the two before all three headed followed.


	10. The Motive behind Maestro

9:50 a.m.  
Monsieur Henri Gluant, or otherwise known as Campion Serenaid, immediately ran from the crime scene after being figured out. He was quick, but Pietro and the four students were on his tail. While the teacher ran quickly down the stairs, Pietro was able to slide down the railing to the next floor. Monsieur Gluant then began  
to bump purposely against the wall, making the nearby paintings start to shake. Pietro quickly held the paintings still before they got a chance to hit the floor. The group soon followed the teacher out the door and onto the streets. Seeing that they were closing in on him, Gluant turned to the left and into a nearby outdoor market. Seeing a few crates nearby, he started pushing  
them to Pietro and the students. Pietro jumped over and dodged each one that passed by and had to get them out of the way for his friends to pass through. They soon followed him to a nearby park, but suddenly he was nowhere to be seen.

Andre panted heavily as he leaned against a nearby wall. "Well *pant pant* I oughta geeve heem credit. Campion is a fast runner."  
"You're telling me." said Paul catching his breath. "As a result, we have lost heem."  
"Probably going to vandalize anozher painting." said Andre as he folded his arms and scowled.  
"Who would ever zhought zat our own art teacher was a creeminal!" exclaimed Louise. "He eez becoming, how you say, a disgrace to our own country!"  
Pietro then raised up his hand to her. "Hang on, mes ami. I don't zheenk zat Campion Serenaid would vandalize anozher painteeng at ze moment. I believe zat he only got here to London only for heez own artwork."  
Paul looked at Pietro and said, "But why? Why would he, out of so many great masterpieces, choose hees own to ruin?"  
"Mes ami!" cried out Andre. "Look!" He pointed at the second tree on the left where a canvas, cream paper, a rather large bag, and some other art materials were.  
"I say!" exclaimed Louise. "Zat's ze place where Monsieur Gluant used to relax and try and gain new ideas for heez next work of art.  
Pietro then motioned for the others to follow him, for he knew that the culprit's supplies might contain his reasoning for his crimes. He saw something quite interesting. "Heez own bag eez open. I can bet zat somezhing important was in here."  
Paul thought for a moment of what Pietro was saying. Suddenly his eyes grew wide in shock and so did the other students. "Y...You mean?"  
Pietro pulled out a rather large cork and nodded. "We must hurry and get back to ze Art Gallery before Campion makes ze beegest meestake in heez life!" With that, all five friends got back to the scene of the crime within five minutes.

As they quickly ran up the stairs, they heard Campion's own footsteps nearing his own painting. Pietro knew exactly what he was about to do and he had to hurry before the final ten minutes are up. Once they got to the scene, the crowd suddenly grew still with frightened faces as they saw Campion holding his shap-pointed pen in one hand and the ink bottle in the other.  
"Don't you move a muscle, mes ami!" said Campion in a threatening mood. "You do anyzheeng and I'll do what must be done! One little stroke from my pen to the painting...and my masterpiece is complete."  
Pietro then boldly stepped up, making Campion move closer. "You have no idea what you are about to bring once you do so."  
"I deedn't really zhink you understand."  
"Non...I don't understand. You used to be a well-respected painter with a brilliant mind, Campion...but now you want to rebell against those morales now?"  
"Campion, ha! Campion Serenaid was an art prodigy whose mastery of art was over ze top! My painteengs were adored and loved by all who laid eyes upon zhem! My art school, my neighborhood, and ze art fairs! Everywhere I went, I was a god among men!" He suddenly had a calmer look on his face as he said, "At least...I was...all zat."  
"But you couldn't keep that title forever..."  
Campion nodded his head and dropped his head along with his hand that held the pen as he sighed. "I was at ze top of my game but I trained even harder..." He slowly turned his head to the crowd and glared with clenched teeth. "But what did I get in return?" Slowly a flashback of his early life at several art fairs came to his mind as he explained his motives...

"Ovair ze years as a youth, I have been told by my tutors that I was one of their elite students they ever had. I knew what eet took to catch an onlooker's attention and keep their eyes on ze surifier first prize. I zhought I had everyzhing under control to always ensure ze highest honors...But as time passed by, I began to place lower and my followeeng grew few. Well sure, there were zhose who remained devoted to moi.  
But I wanted more...I wanted to become immortal. Zat zhought had stuck weez me zhroughout ze years and I waited for my answer. I soon found eet een a form of my own special calligraphy pen, and soon I found myself using zhe same tacteecs of Leonardo Da Vinci een mirrorwriteeng and I had to make a new name for myself: Maestro. Before I became an art teacher, I began to practeece makeeng my tag on deeferent canvases. As soon as zat was  
done, I then moved to forgeeng painteengs, sculptures, fiascos, every seengle masterpiece I can find. All for ze purpose to make sure zat ze art world never...ever forgets me..."

As soon as he was finished, Pietro continued, "So...now zat you're here, you zhought zat forgeeng your first masterpiece weell make you forget your past."  
"Me oui! My own portrait only reminded me of my horrid revelation. Eet had to go seence my life as a painter meant nozheeng anymore!"  
"But Campion!" exclaimed Armand. "People steell respected you as an arteest! Back een France, zhey steell have your best works of art which have been hung on walls and even shown een many of our art schools!"  
But Campion still glared at his students. "Eez zat why zhose judges at zhose art fairs placed my art zhird? Placed my art fourzh? Placed my art...honorable mencion?" He then showed his pen in his left fist. "Zhis! Zhis eez beyond zhose judgements. No one, no one ever can eegnore zhis!"  
Not showing a glimpse of fear, Pietro still stepped forward. "Oh, so zhat's how eet's gonna be huh? Get attencion een any way you can. Well, eef you're really zat desperate, zhen why don't you go ahead and write your real name. Don't hide behind some "Maestro" tag! Go ahead and write Campion Serenaid."  
"Fine, Pietro! I weell!" Campion eased his left hand closer to his self portrait in angry determination. "Just watch me! I weell!" He tried to move his left hand closer, but somehow he couldn't. He even used his right hand to grasp his left to try and strengthen that easing. But even so, it still felt impossible and he didn't know why.  
He suddenly heard the voice of Paul. "Non, I don't zhink you weell! You know why? Because zhen everyone weell find out what went down here."  
"He's right, Campion." said Louise. "Ze way I see eet, zhere was zhis talented arteest who gave up helpeeng some of ze people...to hurteeng all of ze people. Ze reason for zat eez because he failed to see what ze purpose of art was."  
Finally Andre concluded, "Eet's about expresseeng yourself...for ze sake of expresseeng yourself, no matter what ze outcome or judgement."  
Campion still eased closer to the painting but looked at his students with a hopeless look on his face. "You zhink eet would matter after all zhese years...but eet don't. I've lost my place and I can never get eet back again."  
"Zat may be so, Campion." said Pietro taking one more step forward. "But your art matters to me no matter what."  
"And me." said Paul.  
"And me." said Armand.  
"And me." said Louise.  
"And also me." said Andre. Campion looked around the room and saw that the other people were in agreement with them. He slowly glanced at his pen in his left hand, wondering what he should do.  
Pietro knew there were three minutes left on the clock. "Come on, Campion Serenaid. Be Monsieur Henri Gluant: ze greatest art teacher France has ever had."  
Campion remained silent for a while, then he turned his face to the painting and did something quite extraordinary. In a fast pace, he began to scrape off every trace of his tag with that same pen until there was nothing left. No one dared to ask how he did that.


	11. How the case was solved

Then turning back to Pietro, he said, "Now, you can take eet." Pietro happily took the pen and nodded in saying he did well. "By ze way, you have quite magnifeecent skeells  
eef you were able to solve zhis crime. How eez zat so?"  
Pietro smiled at him and said, "Well..." Surprisingly, he changed his voice to an English accent. "I was hoping you'd ask that." The crowd then gasped, even the students. This French boy turned out to be English after all! Taking off his hat, the boy continued, "My real name is Anthony McAllister, son of aristocrats Romeo and Emilia McAllister and helper of Sherlock Hound."  
Paul's eyes were wide in shock at the mention of the detective who helped him save his friends. "Sherlock Hound? You mean all zhis time you've been workeeng for heem?"  
"Yes, Paul. And if you're wondering why he himself didn't come along, it's because that this crime was one of the many that had recently tooken place here in London. He and Dr. Watson requested some assistance in this matter, and I was one of the four who were chosen for these tasks."  
Andre walked to him and commented, "And I must say, you deed an excellent job solveeng zhis case."  
"Oui," agreed Louise. "And I suspect zat you were chosen because of your disguiseeng."  
Anthony nodded, "Mmhmm." He then shrugged. "And uh, I didn't cause so much trouble during this whole thing."  
"No, not at all." said Armand. "Your skeells were very helpful to us een zhis matter."  
Then Louise asked, "But I what I wanna know eez how deed you know zat Monsieur Gluant was Campion and Maestro?"

Anthony took a little pause and said, "Well, it wasn't easy at first, Louise." Then the flashback began when he was still reading the paper. "When I read about the crimes that Maestro had caused, it was obvious that he had something to do with art and Sherlock Hound knew that this gallery would be the next place where he would strike. He also knew that you four students and Gluant  
would be heading over there and I was requested to keep watch over you. During the days I stayed at the hotel, I began to ponder on our culprit. I know for one, you four nor the curator had any reason to mess with priceless masterpieces. Due to my recent studies in art back home, I was able to find out a little about Maestro. Felipe would be a possible suspect if he only had a steady hand.  
Despite the fact there were still so many people to interview, I finally found my answer to unravelling this whole mystery." The flashback then ended.  
"I suppose eet would be zat peecture zat Felipe took," said Campion. "If eet wasn't for zat, I would've made ze beegest meestake een my life."  
"Well, it would've shown you, but all I got was a picture of Felipe's own shoe."  
Campion was surprised and so was the rest of the crowd. "Wha? But, but how deed you..."  
"I didn't need the picture to know who was left-handed. Didn't you remember when we first met?"  
"Oui, I deed." The flashback now showed Pietro meeting Campion as Gluant. "But what deed zat show?"  
"Well Campion, I first introduced myself as Pietro and you as Gluant. And we both shook hands, but not in the way that I expected. For you shook with..."  
"A left hand!" exclaimed Campion. "Zat's brilliant!"  
"Actually," began Anthony as he copied Sherlock Hound. "It's elementary, my dear Campion." With that, everyone started laughing for this boy was something else!


	12. Vive Lamour!

8:45 a.m.  
The next morning, Anthony helped his friends carry their luggage over to the two carriages that were parked close to the curb. It was a long way down the staircase so they had to be careful when bringing them all down. Once the last of Campion's luggage was down, the teacher and his students all smiled at Anthony in appreciation.  
Campion was the first to speak. "Anthony, I can't zhank you enough for all you've done here."  
Anthony scratched the back of his head saying, "Hey, it's my pleasure. I was glad to help."  
Andre then stepped forward to him. "I never zhought I would say zhis, but we're greatly een your debt." Smiling, he offered a hand to Anthony and they both shook on it.  
Armand stepped up next. "Eef zhere's anyzhing you need from us, you just ask."  
"I thank you for that, Armand." said Anthony as he shook his hand.  
Paul came next with what looked like several painting in his right hand. "As a token of our appreciation, Campion zhought eet would be best eef we can geeve a glimpse of some of our best works." Anthony was handed each one as he looked over them. Paul painted a still-life of a lit candle sitting in the dark; Andre's was a group portrait of wild horses running free in the summer countryside; Louise's was a portrait of a little girl holding a fleur-de-lis in the springtime; Andre's was a landscape of the Eiffel Tower in the daytime.  
And finally, Campion's was exactly what Anthony expected: his own self portrait when he was a young man.  
Anthony smiled at each one and said, "Thank you so much." He shook hands with Paul, placed the paintings next to his own luggage, and looked back at his friends. "And if it's possible when I return, I'm interested in looking into the basement of the Louvre."  
"Why of course, Anthony!" exclaimed Campion with a smile. "I've been quite well-known weez ze locals zhere, so I'm sure we can arrange zat."  
Andre shrugged as he told his teacher, "Oui, just as soon as you can make up for ze damages you have caused."  
Campion blushed n embarassment. "Uh, don't worry about a zhing. I know how to undo all zhose tags anyhow."  
"Monsieur Campion," called out one of the carriage riders. "Shall we take you to the ferry now?"  
"Een a moment, monsieur," replied he. He then turned back to Anthony to shake his hand. "We truly expect to see you again soon, Anthony."  
"Me too, Campion, me too," said Anthony. "And uh, one more thing." He went to one of his suitcases and took out a painting and some sheet music. He offered it to the students and they found that it was the same songs he sang to them. For the painting, it was Vincent Van Gogh's famous Starry Starry Night. "Something for you to remember me by."  
"Merci beau coup!" said Louise.  
"Come on, everyone." called out Campion as he put his luggage into the carriage. "We must not be late!" And with that, the four students put their luggage in the two carriages and went in. As soon as that was done, Anthony waved goodbye to his friends as they parted.

As the back carriage moved farther from Anthony, Louise looked back in sadness for she will not see him in a long time. As she kept looking at him, she thought of the wonderful times she and her friends had with him and even the chance to join him in watching the stars. As soon as the two carriages turned the corner, her eyes suddenly grew wide in shock and she immediately knocked on the roof of the carriage interior.  
"Louise!" exclaimed Andre in surprise. "What are you doeeng?"  
"I'm sorry, Andre!" said Louise as she began to get out of the carriage. "But I forgot to geeve somezhing to Anthony!" She then ran off, causing the other carriage to stop and her friends to follow her.  
"Louise, get back here!" cried out Paul. "You're gonna make us late!" But the girl ignored him as she continued to press on. She finally saw him about to turn the left corner and knew she had to hurry.  
"Anthony!" she called out, causing the boy to turn around in shock.  
"Louise?" He saw her stopping in front of him and catching her breath. "What are you doing back here?"  
After a few more breaths, she replied, "I wanna do somezhing I should've done a long time ago." And before Anthony can even ask, the girl quickly cupped his face and brought her face to his as she kissed him on the lips. Anthony's eyes were wide in shock so were the other students, but slowly his eyes faded as he fell under her spell. Paul, Andre, and Armand were still surprised, but there was no doubt that Louise is true to her feelings toward their friend. The kiss continued for two minutes and Louise felt that the moment had no way of getting ruined.  
Finally her lips slowly left his and she smiled and blushed at him as she put her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry, I uh...I just can't help myself."  
"Don't worry about it, it's fine." said Anthony as he smiled back.  
"I'll see you soon, Anthony!" said Louise as gave him one final hug before departing with the others back to their carriages.  
As soon as they were gone, Anthony smiled as he continued on his way. Not only did he solve his first case, but he also won the affections of a girl. Smiling, he cried out in French as he opened out his arms to the air, "Viva lamoure!"


End file.
